Far From Home
by DizZyFiction
Summary: My take on how House is reacting to his new surroundings, and how he is/isn't adjusting. What happens when he is taken out of an environment that needs him as much as he needs it?
1. Chapter 1

This is my first House story. I've been reading a lot about the season 6 premiere and decided to give writing a story a try. I am fairly new to House fandom and apologize for any inaccuracy involving the characters. I'll try my best to fact check, but it is fan fiction so some things may be changed purposely. Not sure how long it's going to be, just kind of going with the flow. Please read and review. I live for that stuff. I do not own House or anything to do with the tv show. Do not come after me for money, you will not get much.

Without a question, it had been the longest two weeks of his life. No vicodin. No alcohol. Nothing to help pass the time, and pass it did while under the influence. It was much easier that way. Now all he had was time, laced with pesky pain he just couldn't seem to manage on his own. Hence him ending up in a psychiatric hospital. This combination did not always leave him the best state of mind. In laymen's terms he was miserable, legitimately unhappy. Even he could say it out loud now. This forced him to think about things he had been pushing away for almost a decade now. This did not make his experience any more enjoyable.

His only link the outside world was the 12x24 window he had in his room. Those darn bars made it pretty hard to see anything though. The only thing he knew for sure was that it had been grey since the day that he had arrived 14 days ago. He shivered at the thought. Two weeks. The realization shook him. He was afraid of what he had missed. The hospital was constantly on his mind. There were no longer any hallucinations to distract him, which was the only good thing about his stay thus far.

**SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.**

The rain had been somewhat of a comfort to him in the beginning. The soothing sound of the rain smacking against the glass of his window. He couldn't really see it, but he could hear it. Proof that something was going on beyond the confines of the hospital walls. The worlds had not stopped moving because he had.

**SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.**

The rains rhythm grew irritating after about the fifth day. He had convinced himself it was the hospitals own form of Chinese water torture. Torture, that's one hell of a way to treat a temporary mental break. He could feel his leg pulse in pain with the rhythm of the drops.

On the fourteenth day, he rose. Using his elbows to prop his chest off of the stiff mattress, he sat up straight. It had been the first time he had been motivated to move for a reason besides going to the bathroom. He grabbed his right leg and carefully swung it over the side of the bed. He was surprised when the pain was not as bad as he had anticipated. With both of his feet finally touching the floor he grabbed his cane. He held his breath as he stood, still anticipating a horrendous pain. As his body straightened he was again surprised by the lack there of. It was nothing like he had expected. He took a few unsteady steps over to the window, only feeling pain when he lifted his leg.

Finally, the rain was in his view. He watched as it splashed up as it hit the pavement. It fell hard and quick from the sky. He raised his left hand in the air and proudly gave the sky the middle finger. His gesture was interrupted by three loud knocks at the door.

"That's a nice gesture, but I'm pretty sure you're going to come in no matter what I say!" He yelled so that the orderly on the other side could hear him. His eyes were fixed on the heavy metal door as it slid open slowly. The irony of the situation still managed to amuse him a little bit.

"You do realize I am a cripple, right? The five hundred pound door might be a bit unnecessary. The chances of me kicking it down are pretty low." Using his cane, he pointed to his right thigh.

House observed the man who stood at the door. It was not someone he had seen before, not that he had seen much of anyone lately. The only contact he had had was with whoever had been pushing the food cart around on his floor each day. He was a regular social butterfly. For a moment, he thought maybe someone was finally bringing him some pills to take. A man can dream.

"To what do I owe this visit?" He asked in an overly sarcastic tone. It was the first time there had been any kind of expression in his voice in a very long time. Two weeks. 14 days.

"It's moving day Mr. House." The man's voice shook him from his thoughts.

"Excuse me, orderly!" House yelled louder than he needed to down the long white hallway, tapping his cane obnoxiously against the tile.

"There must have been some kind of mix up, because I'm almost certain I booked a single." He nodded his head towards the dark haired man that slept peacefully in a chair by the window.

"Well patient…" The man was clearly not amused by House's antics. "…this is your roommate, and I promise he isn't any crazier than you are."

House lowered his head in defeat. There was no intimidating his way out of his current situation. He waited until the orderly had turned his back before he paid him the same respect he had paid the rain earlier that day. He had grown rather accustomed to being by himself in those two weeks. 14 days. Now he was being forced to share a room with a complete stranger, a completely crazy stranger.

The room reminded him of the one that coma guy stayed in back at PPTH. Pale blue walls that had been faded by the little bit of sun that crept through the window, white beds, white sheets, and white pillows. At least coma guy had a television. He was surprised to find that all of his personal belongings had already been brought to the room and placed carefully into drawers. There wasn't much, three shirts, three pairs of pants, and a pair of pajama pants. He thought about changing into some clean clothes, but quickly dismissed the idea. It wasn't like it mattered either way, he was completely alone in that hospital. Roommate or no roommate, he was truly alone.

**Please read and review.**


	2. Chapter 2

TWO WEEKS LATER.

Fourteen more days had passed him by. The second half of his stay had been much more eventful than the first half, well just about as eventful as a stay at a mental institution could be. Much of the excitement was due to his new found TV privileges, and his roommate. Malcolm was a 34 year old gentleman who had suffered a nervous breakdown due to his career on Wall Street. He was also a close talker and moaned in his sleep. The latter was all that really mattered to House. It was just like what his therapist had told him, he only focused on the negative aspects of the people around him. He replied politely by informing her that her saggy breasts were too distracting to continue their session. So overall, things were going as expected.

Most nights House just sat in the TV room catching up on the episodes of General Hospital that he had missed during while in solitary confinement, an affectionate term he used to refer to the first two weeks of his stay. By this time most of the other patients had been sedated and were enjoying a nice drug induced sleep at. In the beginning he had taken the pills in hopes that they would take him on some kind of trip, instead they just made him sleep for an obscene amount of time. For years he had watched patients of his own cheek their medication, and was quite familiar with the practice. He was able to fool even the most seasoned of orderlies. Upon returning to his room, he carefully snuck the pills to a secret hiding spot. The toilet. There was always a way to cheat. Everybody lies.

"Do you ever wonder why no one has come to visit you yet?" Malcolm asked one day as he reclined in his chair by the window. Now that the rain had subsided, it was where he spent most of his free time. So on average, eight hours a day.

"Ever wonder why you couldn't handle a '_big boy'_ job out in the '_grown up _world_'_? You really stuck it to the man getting yourself thrown in this place." House replied as he slipped into a clean t-shirt. He knew his words were harsh, but Malcolm had delivered the first blow.

"…And by that I mean, it's only been 30 days. I wasn't even allowed visitors until two days ago." He grabbed his cane and exited the room, unsure whether he should even believe his reasoning.

It was two o'clock and General Hospital was calling his name. He has finally caught up and could watch the show in real time. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed a distraction. He tried not to think too far into it, but it did bother him that no one had come to see him. It wasn't like he had expected a line of people to be waiting to see him, but he had though at least Wilson would have come by.

Time flew by while he watched television. It had always simply been background noise to him, but lately he had been paying a little more attention. Believe it or not, the people on TV were far more interesting then those he interacted with on a daily basis.

"You're late." A voice from behind interrupted his train of thought. It was a voice he had become all too familiar with.

"I've decided I no longer believe in the concept of time." He replied, his eyes never leaving the television screen.

"…I'm crazy, so I can do that kind of thing. Remember?" He was still facing the TV as he instigated. His therapist was not amused. He and Holly had gotten off to a bad start, but she wasn't ready to quit yet. He really hated her resilience.

"Greg, I'm still interested to hear your thoughts on these hallucinations. You've explained to me why you think Amber and Kutner appeared to you, but you've never once even acknowledged the hallucination that involved your boss." Holly paused for a moment, trying to see if there was any change in his facial expression. She just wanted to se some kind of emotional reaction.

"This was not just another hallucination. It lasted for almost twelve hours and was so strong that you were unable to distinguish fact from fiction. There is obviously a significance attached." She watched as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. He was remembering the hallucination, he could still recall the vivid details his imagination had created.

"Well, if you had seen her ass you would definitely understand…" He paused, finally looking up from the ground. His ice blue eyes returned her gaze.

"…I am a man. Men often fantasize about women, it's actually very common. I am sure you are not accustomed to that kind of attention from men. All I did was have a sexual fantasy about Cuddy. It's happened before and I'm sure that one day it will happen again. There we go, problem solved. Can I check out now?" House was clearly agitated. He had not touched on the subject since his arrival, although he had asked himself the same question time and time again.

"Go finish your soap opera, we're done for the day." She fussed with some papers on her desk, pretending to be busy so that she would not have to make eye contact. His words had hurt her, but she could not let him see that.

Out of habit, House grabbed his cane from where it stood leaning against the wall. He barely needed it, but it was always good to carry something around that could double as a weapon.

Lost in his thoughts, he walked back to his room. He was happy to find it empty upon his return. Malcolm was at anger management group. Stretching his arms to the ceiling, House let out a loud yawn. Whether he liked to admit it or not, therapy was always quite draining. It was hard work keeping someone as warm and nurturing as Holly at a distance. She tried so hard to help him, no matter what terrible things he said to her. He let out a long sigh as he recalled his latest insults.

As he went to pull back the sheets of his bed, he noticed there was a piece of paper on his pillow. He began folding it into a paper airplane after reading the hospital letterhead at the top of the page. Right as he was about to shoot the plane over to the garbage, something in the letter caught his attention. He quickly unfolded the letter and scanned through the contents.

_Mr. House,_

_Tomorrow at 6:00pm you will be allowed one hour with a visitor. This visit has been requested by James Wilson. If you choose to deny this request, please contact…_

He didn't bother to read the rest, and just crumpled up the piece of paper. He shot it into the garbage in one try. It was the second coolest thing that had happened to him all day.

**Next chapter will start bringing in other characters from the show…finally. **


	3. Chapter 3

The rain had returned for the first time in almost a week. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so damn much, it wasn't like he had ever been a fan of the great outdoors. He had woken up earlier than usual that day. His nerves were getting the best of him, but he would never admit that, not even to himself. Wilson's upcoming visit weighed heavily on his mind. It had been a little over a month since Wilson had left him at the front door. Left him. That is what he done after all. House was unaware of any mental hospitals that allowed you to bring your best friend, so he couldn't really hold that against him. It was far easier to blame someone else for his problems, it always had been.

After lunch, he decided to pass some time by pacing up and down the halls. He couldn't even bring himself to think about what he was going to say to Wilson, or what they were going to talk about. There were some many things he wanted to know, so many questions he had to ask, and many topics he would try to avoid. Wilson had a wonderful way of bringing up all of those things.

The topic of Cuddy was inevitable. He didn't want to talk about her, he couldn't. His thoughts of her were painful enough. Vocalizing his feelings would just intensify the pain. He considered himself an expert on pain, but this kind was new to him. There was no pill that would take this away. It nagged at his insides and pulled at his heart. On some mornings before he opened his eyes, he smelt her. It was just like she was laying in the bed next to him, like she had in his hallucination. The reality that she was not was devastating at times. She was not a topic he could push out of his thoughts. Would she visit him? Could he handle seeing her? Did she think of him?

He tried desperately to focus on the here and now. Wilson was coming to visit, and he was looking forward to it. Of course, he would never admit this to Wilson. He focused on Wilson some more, hoping it would distract him long enough to push thoughts of Cuddy aside. Somewhere around his fifteenth lap, he heard footsteps heading towards him.

"Mr. House, your visitor is here. I'll take you down to him." Holly spoke softly, she knew this was a big step in his healing process. She would take him to Wilson, and meet with him immediately after their visit.

House followed her in complete silence. His mind had gone completely blank. He had no idea what to expect, and wasn't fond of feeling that way. For years, he was the guy everyone else came to when they didn't know what to do, he had all the answers. Now, he was just another patient.

Wilson looked exactly the same. For some reason, House had thought he might look different. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his tan trench coat, his eyes fixed on the steps which House was walking down. For a brief second, House saw a tiny smile cross Wilson's lips. That was a lot coming from the saddest man in New Jersey. House stood at a distance, waiting for Holly to leave them. As soon as she did, House was the first to break the awkward silence.

"Long time no see." His mouth was dry, making his words sound strange. He led Wilson into the visitor's room. They were both relieved to see that the room was empty besides them.

"House, there is no reason this needs to be awkward. It's just like it's always been." Wilson still looked stiff as he spoke, his words seemed rehearsed. He found comfort in that fact that Wilson had been anticipating the visit as much as he had.

"Oh sure, of course not. Why would it be? I've just been locked up in the fucking loony bin for the past month or so. No reason we can't just talk about our latest cases…Oh wait, yeah there is. I'm not allowed to treat people anymore, cause I'm nuts." House playfully spun his cane around his fingers, his eyes never leaving Wilson's. His tone was not so much angry, just brutally honest.

"Well, it's good to hear you haven't lost any of your charm or sense of humor during your stay." Wilson finally sat down, comfortable with the House that he was seeing. He would have been more alarmed if House had greeted him with a smile and a hug.

"Well, it's pretty obvious you've missed me." House took a seat across from him

"And that confidence is still in tact…" Wilson replied. "…And yes, we have all missed you. ALL of us." Wilson's inflection of the word 'all' did not go unnoticed.

"Don't miss me too badly, I won't be here much longer." He reassured his friend.

"So I've heard." Wilson replied nonchalantly, immediately regretting his choice of words. Now he would have to explain. There was no such thing as keeping secrets from House.

"Oh, really? Who's your inside source? It's that Holly isn't it? I knew she was no good." He wasn't surprised Wilson had been in contact with his doctors. Doctors spoke, even he knew that.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I haven't spoken to any of your doctors. But, I know someone who has been…" He paused briefly and exhaled a deep breath. He didn't want to bring it up as much as House didn't want to hear it. "… Cuddy's extremely worried, House. I've never seen her so distracted." The sound of her name knocked the air right out of his lungs. He hadn't expected Wilson to bring her up so soon.

"So, because I'm a doctor I have no patient rights? No right to privacy? Hmm, that's strange." His voice still didn't sound angry, because he wasn't. Wilson had just given him evidence. It was evidence that Cuddy had not forgotten about him, quite the opposite actually. She was taking an active role in his recovery, just like he had wanted her to. Just like she did in his hallucination.

"House…? Are you alright?" Wilson's voice broke his train of thought.

"Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?" House asked, trying to push his thoughts aside. Wilson handed him what looked like a DVD case. As soon as House read the title, that same small smile crossed his face.

"Monster Trucks: Crushed and Destroyed." It was a small gesture, but one he greatly appreciated.

"Just what the doctor ordered." They both smiled.

All awkwardness from the visit had been washed away. Now it was just two friends catching up. The elephant in the room had been forgotten. Wilson filled him in on the hospital and its employees, even though House didn't ask. Wilson knew he wanted to know. When they ran out of things to talk about, they snuck into the TV. room. They watched in complete silence, only yelling out occasionally when there was a particularly good smash.

About an hour into their DVD, there was a loud knock on the glass door. The both knew what it meant. As they stood, a feeling of great sadness came over the room. Wilson was leaving, but House had no choice but to stay behind.

"Don't be a stranger." These were his last words to Wilson as he watched him walk out the door. HE hoped Wilson understood how much he really meant it.


End file.
